


old wounds, new bandages

by fellsor (Caymis)



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 06:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19126426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caymis/pseuds/fellsor
Summary: In which Kiran wants to summon Grima, and Robin isn't too happy about it.Takes place after the Fallen Heroes announcement.





	old wounds, new bandages

**Author's Note:**

> Found this sitting around in my phone, so I decided to upload it.
> 
> I can't guarantee future chapters as my motivation to continue this has long drained away, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless.

"... so yeah, that's the gist of it. I thought you two should know."  
  
Cradling Breidablik against his chest, Kiran chances a glance upwards, fidgeting nervously, and immediately regrets it; the floor and denial would've been better than the angry-slash-betrayed looks he received. He returns his gaze to the ground, feeling slightly ashamed despite himself; despite the logical reason(s) he'd had—still has—behind the decision.  
  
"But _why_?" Chrom presses, the question weighed down with quiet sadness; the source of which, Chrom's just been told, will soon join them. By all rights, he should've been responding with anger, and yet, Kiran knows, that for his sake, the two heroes aren't yelling at him (not yet, anyway, and he won't let it come to that. He's got to act fast, doesn't he?).  
  
"I'm really sorry—"  
  
"Talk _fast_."  
  
It's Robin this time, his voice ice-cold and bleak, a stark contrast from his usual warmth. Kiran freezes up in shock, but manages a jerky nod.  
  
"I know you don't like—"  
  
"Please get to the point."  
  
... Robin's unusual hostility makes Kiran want to withdraw his earlier words entirely, but he knows it'll only make the situation worse; so he steels himself, draws in a deep breath, and explains, lifting a finger each time he raises a point.  
  
"He is, first of all, a green unit, which we've got quite a short supply of; probably a pretty tanky one too, judging from the most recent announcement video"—played on a giant screen that had materialised out of nowhere the day before, floating in the middle of the hall and disappearing the moment its purpose had been served; Kiran still remembers how Chrom and Robin had stormed out in the middle of the video, and Celica's vacant look—"with a weapon that grants him the ability to counterattack, so I don't need to waste his A skill slot on Distant Counter. Not that I was considering it," he adds hastily, "I wouldn't sacrifice Hector for anything."  
  
Kiran doesn't bring Hector into combat often, yes, but he knows that if the hero's sent home or disappears as a result of his skill being inherited, everyone will miss his gruff voice and reluctant concern.  
  
Kiran sure as hell isn't cutting another wound into his heroes; not only would that be detrimental to their performance, it's simply _cruel_ , considering their pasts, the losses all of them must've suffered. He can't add another to that number.  
  
"With the right build, he can and will be useful," Kiran concludes firmly, and tenses, awaiting his verdict, his gaze trailing back to the floor.  
  
There's silence for a long while.  
  
"I can see that there are ... benefits," Robin admits reluctantly, "but what we've got between us is too personal for me to not be biased on this matter." His voice grows softer and softer, as if he's slowly retreating into himself, and after casting a concerned glance at his partner, Chrom explains bluntly, "Woke up with nothing but his name and the mark of Grima branded onto his skin, something he's had to hide for fear of being rejected by us Shepherds, who first found him and took him in. Discovering eventually what that mark meant—wondering if he'd been associated, in some way, with Grima in the past. Wondering what grievous crimes he'd committed under Grima's name, but drawing a blank each time he tried to remember. Not knowing who he was, and is. And finding out, finally, that all along, he was his foe's own vessel. Thinking he had to leave us to save us."  
  
There was a solemn silence as his words sunk in.  
  
"I'm sorry," Kiran says at last, gaze downcast. "I'll reconsider."  
  
"Thank you," Robin says.

 

* * *

 

Kiran paces, and paces, and paces, thinking.  
  
The prospect of summoning Grima definitely offers more benefits than drawbacks, but the consequences of the latter are far too severe to ignore. Robin is a hero Kiran sent into battle often—practically speaking, he won't perform as well as he usually will with Grima present, which of course isn't something Kiran wants; meanwhile, as the Hero's friend, Kiran can't quite bring himself to tear old wounds open.  
  
Pace, pace, pace.  
  
Of course, he can simply remove Robin from the team, but he isn't sure how he'll fill the Robin-shaped hole in the team; isn't even sure if he can, because no one else functions the way Robin does. The team'll miss him, Kiran will miss him. After all, Robin is his own person, and no one will ever be able to replace him no matter how hard they try. Kiran won't find another like the tome-armed hero he's had from the very start, like an old childhood friend.  
  
Face it, his emotions are subconsciously factoring themselves into his choice, too. No matter how hard he tries to convince himself that emotions are irrelevant to victory, they still find a way to influence his decision, anyway.  
  
And he knows what he'll do.  
  
Wrenching open the door, he makes to head to Robin's room, only to find the hero already there outside his door, his fist raised as if about to knock. It falls back and hangs limply at his sides, and Kiran falters, his growing frustration subsiding at the look on Robin's face.  
  
"What're you doing here?"  
  
He scans the corridor behind the hero for Chrom, but the warrior isn't there.  
  
"Robin...?" he prompts, gently.  
  
The hero in question waves a hand dismissively—too dismissively. "I came here to tell you," he says in a tone far too nonchalant to be natural, "that you should summon Grima." An almost imperceptible flinch follows the last word, but Kiran catches it.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard that right, yeah." Despite how hard he's striving to project an image of unconcern, Kiran can see that Robin's face is drawn, and he looks strained.  
  
"But why, all of a sudden?"  
  
"I thought about it. Re-watched the video, actually. Logically speaking, he'll be a ... great addition to our ranks. We lack even a single dragon, and we don't have any strong green units, Hector aside, but it's good to have variety. As you said."  
  
"Y-you're right, but it isn't worth, well," Kiran gestures helplessly, "compromising your happiness. That's what I was on my way to tell you, actually. Robin, you were the second hero I've ever summoned, and I owe you a great deal; you've done a lot for me, much more than you think. Aside from fighting for me on the battlefield, you've lent me your ear when I needed to vent and spill my doubts, and you've shared thoughts and opinions that ultimately contributed to refining my strategies. You've practically taught me!"  
  
For a moment, Robin looks shocked.  
  
Then he smiles, so genuinely that Kiran's heart might crack.  
  
"Thank you," Robin says for the second time that day, "I appreciate that."  
  
Then, to Kiran's dismay, he shakes his head.  
  
"But I must insist; I see more benefits here that far outweigh the cons. You cannot let this chance for a better unit go, Kiran, simply for my sake. Your loyalty is appreciated, but there are far more important things at stake — defeating Surtr, for example, and you need strong heroes for that. I'm a Blue; I can't do much against him, only take out his minions.  
  
"And, perhaps," he adds gently, seeing Kiran's stricken face, "it is about time I stop running from him. While Grima is a representation of all my fears, fears are meant to be confronted and overcome, aren't they? We could come to an unsteady truce, even, where he gets to fight; but only if he cooperates with us."  
  
Kiran stares, not quite knowing how to respond. On one hand, he does want to try to summon Grima, but on the other, despite all of Robin's reassurances, he can't help but think Robin's lying (of _course_ he is).  
  
"Have you consulted Chrom about this?" Kiran manages at last.  
  
"No. This is my responsibility, and it is a choice I should make alone. Whatever the outcome is, Chrom will have to understand and accept it."  
  
"Ah."  
  
As an awkward silence weighs heavy between them, Kiran desperately searches for words to say; before it occurs to him that Robin had come to give him the okay, and that, in the end, the choice was still the Summoner's.  
  
"Alright," he says at last, managing a smile of his own, "I'll think about it. Thank you, Robin."  
  
_For everything._  
  
The words hang unspoken, but are clear nonetheless.  
  
Robin nods, and takes his leave.

 

* * *

 

 _It's the day._  
  
Sitting on the band of marble ringing a small fountain, he stares thoughtfully at his loosely clasped hands. He barely feels the spray of water soaking the back of his cloak, and can't quite bring himself to care, not when there're more pressing matters to think about.  
  
Next to him sits Chrom in silence, but that's okay; words are not needed here for either of them to know what the other's thinking, and besides, what Robin seeks now is simply his best friend's presence, and he knows Chrom feels the same way. They're both anchors to each other, to hold on to when it feels like everything's crumbling away beneath their feet.  
  
Of course, if Grima's successfully summoned—and he says if, because he won't put it past Grima to deliberately ignore Kiran's summons, out of pure spite—he'll be bound by a magical contract that will prevent him from bringing harm to any of his allies. ( _Physical_ harm, of course; nothing will be able to stop Grima's taunts once he's here. The best Robin, and Chrom, can do is to ignore him.)  
  
It's all up to Kiran, of course; Robin hasn't seen him since that day, and he wagers Kiran's spending most of his time in his own room, thinking things over. He appreciates the other's thoroughness, but it doesn't change the fact he doesn't know the final decision; if he's being honest with himself, he knows that he's too scared to ask, and yet, the waiting is excruciating.  
  
Something catches his eye, then, and he looks up to see weak rays of light, seeping through the gap underneath the pair of doors that encloses the main hall.  
  
He hears swearing, and smiles grimly. Probably a three-star whose face Kiran has seen already, and many times to boot.  
  
It's going to be a long wait.


End file.
